When a man died, his wife put the usual death notice in the newspapar but added that he died of gonorrhoea. No sooner were the papers delivered than a good friend called and compalined bitterly, "You know he died of diarrhoea, not gonorrhoea." Replied the widow, "I nursed him night and day, so of course I know he died of diarrhoea. But I thought it would be better to remember him as a great lover than the big shit he always was."
(From the "Rest" of RHF)